What I've Been Working On

INT. ELEVATOR - NIGHT

Six STRANGERS ride up the elevator of an apartment building.

The first, a middle-aged WOMAN. The second, a long-haired COLLEGE STUDENT wearing headphones. The third, a clean-cut THIRTYSOMETHING with dark-rimmed glasses and a messenger bag. The fourth, a MAN IN A SUIT writing reminders into his PDA. The fifth, a tired looking WOMAN IN A PANTSUIT holding a cardboard box full of documents.

The last, JOHN WHITEMAN, 35. He wears a clean white shirt and black pants. He has a white name-tag that says “JOHN” in plain black letters.

Nobody looks at each other in the elevator, except for John, who closely watches each person leave, one by one. His eyes follow the lines on everyone’s expressions.

Finally, John leaves and the elevator doors close.

INT. JOHN’S APARTMENT - 4 A.M.

John’s eyes stare at a television flashing blue and red colored light around a completely dark room.

He lies on his side on the couch in the fetal position, one hand dangling a remote. He flips through the various channels as his blank face intermittently changes colors in the television’s glow.

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